This is not Cadillac Ranch, and it's not Great Britain. It's a cornfield outside Alliance, Nebraska, and it's Carhenge. At first discovery of this installation, it comes off as an elaborate joke, a point of mere amusement were it only a concept or an offhand remark made while touring the real Stonehenge or looking at cars stacked in a junkyard.

But somehow, especially in the streaking late-day sun of an autumn afternoon, the place is magical. Far from the unsettling history, barren location and endless graffiti of the Amarillo, Texas, Cadillacs, Carhenge actually feels spiritually centering. Walking around the sculpture, weaving in and out of the stacked cars or pacing out into the field to take it all in as the sunlight changes, I cannot help but feel calm, clear of thought, and light of heart.

Carhenge is well-documented on the web, so I won't bother to go into its history here, but to summarize it, it's a circular formation of cars from the 1950s through the 1970s, all painted a cold stone grey. Duh, you knew that. What I didn't know I would find are several ancillary installations in the surrounding fields, including several colorful, whimsical tributes to Ford, import cars, and the classic American station wagon as a latter-day conestoga. And if you look carefully in one shot, you'll see one more vehicle that is not part of the installation yet is still a fixture of the landscape in which it sits.